Princess Geena
by Unholyfrank
Summary: Frank loves watching his favourite performer, but this time, he's going to speak to her.


Author's Note: I have always loved this story, so much so that I edited it down and changed all the names to use it as a short story for English in High School. Obviously it wasn't weird and sexual. Let me know what you think.

Unholyfrank xx

* * *

The bass is so loud inside. So deep, you can feel it in your chest.

The private brown door has a small peep hole covered with tiny bars. Frank walks up to it. After knocking four times the cover slides open, revealing only eyes. The eyes form a smile in their expression, and a deep voice says,

"Frank, back again?" Frank goes visibly red, even under the lighting of the building above him. He nods and the eyes look behind the small man.

"You sure you're alone?" The owner of the eyes asks.

"Of course I am, Bear. I don't take other people here. You know I'm no trouble." Frank answers.

The eyes disappear, the bolts unlock and the door opens. Frank squeezes past the bouncer and takes two steps at a time towards the bar. Each step closer to the bar reminds him of the bang and the lock of the door of his first visit. He felt trapped. But the drinks will soon take the pain and memories away, at least temporarily.

Frank opens the curtains and disappears into the darkness of the bar. Everything is a silhouette. Frank can make out the bar, some tables and some other men that are surrounding the stage, waiting for whoever was hired to perform for them. He looks at his watch and makes a panicked face.

"Bear, you nearly made me miss Geena. You know I never miss Geena." He mumbles to himself as he walks, two steps at a time, towards the bar.

"The usual, two whiskies, Frankie?" The bartender asks, already pouring the whiskies before Frank can even nod. He holds up a couple of notes, but the bartender raises his hand. "Not today, Bear tried to distract you, but I won the bet. You're never late for Geena." He smiles. This was true, Frank had never missed a performance by Geena for nearly a year.

Frank just smiles and nods at the bartender, taking his whiskies and sinking into his usual chair.

The song begins to play and he leans forward, ready to watch and see what she would perform today.

On stage is a dancer with a wireless microphone in one hand. Wearing skinny denim jeans and a bright red shirt to match her stilettos, brunette hair extensions and dark red lipstick that was starting to stain the microphone from holding it too close. She starts to sing but Frank is concentrated, solely on her looks, her voice drifts into the back of his head as he watches her dance.

As the song ends, the performer is rewarded with a wild round of applause from the crowd that surrounds the stage. A sea of eyes were watching as she regains her breath. She loves all this attention.

"Thank you, thank you." She shouts into the microphone. "I know you love that one, or is that just me?" The crowd is going wild with every word that she is saying and Frank can't help but smile as he watches. She is always a natural with the crowd. Nothing fazes her.

"For all the newbies in the crowd, not that there has been for months. In fact, I'm starting to get tired of all your faces. But that's not what's important. I'm what's important. I am Princess Geena. This is my show and you will enjoy it."

The next song starts and she looks around, pausing. "And let's face it," she smiles, "what's not to enjoy?"

Throughout the show, Frank hasn't taken his eyes away. Not once. He is being hypnotised by the performer for a whole three hours.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and feels for the boxes, making sure that they're still there, because tonight, tonight would be the night that he finally spoke properly to her. After months of planning, he knew it. Tonight would be the night.

The set ends and Frank is the first out of his chair. He flashes the bouncer an innocent smile as he pushes to get back stage.

Frank is on autopilot again. Navigating the maze of corridors like a professional until he finds the door. Big glittery letters spelling out "Geena". He can smell the perfume from behind the door. His hand hesitates to curl up in a fist, ready to knock. But he doesn't need to. The door swings open.

Standing, dressed in what she wore on stage, she smiles. But not a genuine, normal smile, the sort of smile that creeps up on someone's face when they know that they're making you uncomfortable. They know it and they enjoy it.

"Can I help you?" She asks. Frank can't speak, his mouth has gone dry. He couldn't take his eyes off her. A tut brings him back to reality. "Well?"

"Uh..." he stutters. "Great show tonight."

"I know." She states, simply.

"You... you can really sing."

"I know." She replies with a small eye roll. Frank still can't get used to being in Geena's presence, despite this being a weekly routine.

"Frank," she looks up at him, her hands on her hips. "Do you actually want something? You're wasting my time." He wants to tell her that he has feelings for her, that he bought her things but he shakes his head.

"Okay, keep watching, Frank." She smiles and closes the door.

Frank waits a few minutes before he reaches into his pocket. He looks at the boxes with the note on top and takes a deep breath before placing them on the floor. He takes another deep breath and knocks on the door.

He runs back through the backstage door. He would just have to see if she wore the gifts next week.

While Frank was thinking about leaving, Geena opens the door and immediately looks down at the boxes.

"I thought he wanted something." She says to herself. She picks them up and closes the door again. She sets the boxes on her table next to her mirror and gets changed into the older clothes that she arrived in. She cleans off her makeup and takes out her hair extensions. She looks up in the mirror at what she saw.

Gerard sighs and rubs his eyes.

"A man has to do what a man has to do."


End file.
